


Sorry, I'm too busy thinking about Jonathan Carnahan.

by Agent_Phyllis



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Ardeth is too busy thinking about Jonathan Carnahan, Ardeth pines after Johnathan, Ardeth won't say he's in love, Bisexual Jonathan Carnahan, Jonathan has PTSD, M/M, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sort Of, The Medjai, bisexual ardeth bay, blink and you'll miss it Jeeves and Wooster ref, but then plot happened, jonathan is a war veteran, queerphobia doesn't exist in my fic, the words medjai and tribe occurs too many times in this fic but idk how else to call them, was supposed to be plot what plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26571277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Phyllis/pseuds/Agent_Phyllis
Summary: Inspired by a tumblr post about Ardeth telling Rick he can't go to his wedding because he's too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan.Originally intended to be a quick humour fic of about 1k, pretty much a `plot, what plot?` but then somehow a plot snuck in.Ardeth, in the aftermath of Imhotep's (brief) return, finds his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Johnathan Carnahan. While he tries to be the best leader for his people, sometimes he can't help but wonder out loud things like `Would Johnathan Carnahan like a sunrise horse ride in the desert?`, and `Would Johnathan Carnahan like to be given a pet goat?`His heartsick wondering all leads to Ardeth telling Rick O'Connell "I'm sorry, my dear friend, I cannot attend your wedding. You see, I'm too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan" (which goes down about as well you can imagine)
Relationships: Ardeth Bay & Evy Carnahan O'Connell & Rick O'Connell, Ardeth Bay/Jonathan Carnahan, Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell, Jonathan Carnahan & Evy Carnahan O'Connell
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyaticlikestea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaticlikestea/gifts).



> UPDATE: I just realised I've been spelling it Johnathan and not Jonathan and I can only apologies - I'll try and edit for corrections when the next chapter is uploaded.
> 
> I’ve not shared any fanfiction since 2016 and even that’s unfinished. This fic isn’t to be taken seriously, I just picked Ardeth explaining that he is simply unable to live his life because he’s too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan and I thought that was funny.  
> Inspired by this post: https://littlemissfi.tumblr.com/post/628982163563560960/papagenothefool-i-think-you-need-to-remove-fool  
> I also thought it would be amusing to write Johnathan Carnahan as much as possible, please don’t ask me why it’s simply one of my many regrets.
> 
> (PS, no beta so please excuse mixed tenses and silly mistakes - that’s one of the things about dyslexia I was never able to fully conquer, even though I have a fucking BA IN CREATIVE WRITING WHAT??)
> 
> Warnings: Contains run on sentences, bullet points and Ardeth jus ponderin stuffs about the guy he totes has a crush on. Also some made up stuff about scholars being at the monastery because I can only find reference of people going to study the texts held there in the 1800’s and boy this ain’t a time travel fic! Also, the thing about Johnathan’s eye is based on John Hannah’s own comments about having a lazy eye that he’s basically blind in.
> 
> Actual warnings: Vague and brief mentions of WWI, even more vague allusion to Johnathan not handling running into men who he knew during the war. Ardeth is lovesick but the majority of the time insists he and Johnathan are just friends, this is NOT internalised queerphobia - he’s just trying to compartmentalise his feelings for a person he thinks he’ll either never see again or will only rarely get to see.
> 
> The wiki for the Medjai call the 12 groups tribes, and I don’t know if that’s a proper or accurate way to describe them but I also thought it would be weird for me to take from the arabic Bedouin names (which seemingly translate into `tents` I think?)

#  Sorry, I’m too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan.

  
  
  


Ardeth Bay, leader of one of the 12 tribes of the Medjai and recent player in the successful campaign to stop Imhotep from fully returning to earth and wreaking havoc with immeasurable powers, lay prone in the sand clearing just in view of the camp. This was an area for the fighters in their camp to spare and keep their sword and hand to hand combat skills sharp and it was not uncommon for Ardeth to be bested by one of the other highly trained warriors. It was, however, EXTREMELY uncommon for him to be sent sprawling by a trainee who was still mostly a child in the eyes of the Medjai adults. 

The silence around him was near absolute as all those training there that morning turned their eyes to him in shock, the young trainee’s mouth hung wide open in disbelief, they waited for him to get back onto his feet.

They waited a little longer.

And then maybe a moment or two more.

After the passage of several other moments many began to wonder if it would be an insult to go and pick their leader up, perhaps he was hurt…. Somehow? 

There was some silent communication that passed between a few of men and women who could be considered Ardeth’s contemporaries, eye contact and exaggerated expressions were exchanged instead of words, before divulging into hand gestures and the audible `tsssst` and huffs of breath.

“Are you well Ardeth?” Ammon ventured closer to the fallen Medjai “You… you haven’t moved in a while” 

“I wonder…” Those who surrounded Ardeth made no effort to hide how they leaned in closer as he started to speak “... if Johnathan Carnahan practices his hand to hand fighting, or if he prefers instead to spend his time shooting at targets” 

The noble Medjai, descended from the protectors of Pharaohs and surviving the Knights Templar in their duties to protect Egypt (and the world) from true evil, jokingly boo’d at Ardeth and (gently) kicked sand in his general direction. They had been made to worry about Ardeth’s well being when all that was wrong with him was his incessant mooning over Johnathan Carnahan. 

As Ammon and Jabari sat themselves on either side of their leader and friend, the rest of the gathered fighters unanimously decided training was over for the morning and ushered the lingering youngsters back to the camp to eat breakfast and start their chores. 

Jabari sprinkled a handful of sand onto Ardeth’s robe covered stomach, “We were worried, you idiot. Hardly thirty seconds into showing that boy how to ground himself during a throw and you are flat on your back, not moving or speaking - and for what? Because it made you think of the drunken Englishman?”

“... No”

“`No`? _What do you mean `no`_?”

“No, being thrown didn’t make me think of him. I was thrown because I was already thinking of him”

Ammon threw his hands in the air and flopped back onto the sand in frustration. Ardeth got a wonderfully up-close view of the irritation clearly written across the other man’s face (he wondered how Johnathan Carnahan would look in this situation, Ardeth wisely kept that thought to himself) and Jabari calmly continued to pour sand on Ardeth’s stomach. Jabari was not quite as sick of hearing about this Johnathan as Ammon was, but he also wasn’t Ardeth's cousin and so hadn’t had to witness Ardeth’s musings on the man. As unwed men of the same family Ardeth and Ammon shared a tent with some other relatives, Ammon was also part of the chain of command for the Medjai and so his days and nights had been filled with his cousin speaking aloud such thoughts as:

  * “Did you know Johnathan’s mother was Egyptian? Do you think she could have been a nomad too?”
  * “I think he speaks Arabic, or some Arabic, do you think he speaks Arabic?”
  * “I told him he has won our respect, I should have extended an invitation to visit as well. Perhaps he thinks me rude to have not” 
  * “Johnathan Carnahan has blue eyes” (This one had been said, without prompting, right as Ammon had been falling asleep. He was certain Ardeth already been asleep himself when it happened)
  * “A flesh eating scarab crawled under his skin and tried to eat him alive, but he still carried on and helped kill Imhotep. I admire that in a man”
  * “How incredible his aim must be, to shoot so surely while not even fully looking AND whilst drinking that foul rum” (Ammon was particularly not fond of the reminder that he had fallen from his horse in shock as a bullet grazed his neck during the attack on the expeditionaries at the City of the Dead)



Ammon rolled away from Ardeth, covered his hand with his face and groaned “Please, you must _STOP_ with nonsense now, you have been falling behind on your duties. Seeing as how training has been cut short why not go and catch up on some of them, hmm?”

He lowered his hands and looked back at Ardeth.

“Ammon, I am afraid I cannot...

You see, I am far too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan”

_ “BURY HIM IN SAND JABARI, AND LEAVE HIM TO ROT!” _

Fortunately for Ardeth, Jabari was too preoccupied with laughing hysterically at the two men to bury their leader and leave him for dead.

  
  
  


Some weeks later….

  
  
  


St. Catherine’s Monastery sat at the mouth of the gorge of Mount Sinai and was surrounded by immense, fortress-like walls. Since the year 548 AD the monastery, or at least it’s library, had been located on land that belonged to the Bedouins and the Greek Orthodox Christians there were living more or less harmoniously with the nomads who had become the monastery’s protectors. 

The Medjai tribes had all been called there by some of their Bedouin brothers a few months after Imhotep’s awakening and subsequent defeat, but it was not a good idea to have all of the Medjai converge on St. Catherine’s - especially not so soon after the very thing they had been charged with preventing had… well… not been entirely prevented. However, the urgent request from the keepers of the library had stated what they’d found may impact the whole of the Medjai and their purpose in life. And so it was decided that three tribes and their leaders would come together to stand watch over Hamunaptra, a further two separately would satellite around the area as back up.

Three whole tribes would travel to Sinai, with their arrivals coordinated to be staggered and no one group following the same route. The remaining four would carry on their travels and work as normal. Through much discussion it had also been decided that Ardeth and a small entourage would leave their larger group, who had been tasked with circling the three tribes based at Hamunaptra, and join the gathering at St. Catherine’s.

Although Ardeth had improved in the weeks since the training incident he was still suffering the ill effects of heartsickness. He’d learnt to keep his thoughts on Johnathan Carnahan (mostly) to himself, but still found any additional tasks given to him harder to accomplish - he was just too busy thinking about other man: wondering if Johnathan would enjoy riding horseback at sunrise along the borders of a settlement or town during a scouting trip, what kind of mischief the sticky-fingered Carnahan would get in to at one of the vibrant bazaars Ardeth had needed to visit, or would Ardeth himself be distraction enough to keep Johnathan engaged and out of trouble? 

Except the idea of keeping Johnathan Carnahan distracted had thrown Ardeth’s thoughts in a direction he definitely should avoid while on duty, or in the communal tent shared with his relatives, or **ANYWHERE** because he and Johnathan could only just about be considered friends! He didn’t know the lith looking man all that well, even though saving the world together could be considered one of those `instant unshakeable bond` situations. Certainly he was good friends with Evelyn and Rick, who had sent Ardeth missives during their journeys together after thwarting a mummy apocalypse. And yes, often Miss Carnahan’s letters included a postscript along the lines of _`My brother sends his warmest regards`_ , which would fill Ardeth with feelings that were 100%, definitely, certainly JUST friendship and respect for Johnathan Carnahan. 

He had learnt a little more about the older Carnahan sibling through the occasional, and often off-hand, comments littered in his sister’s letters; _`... the goat herders were rather more friendly than before once Johnathan got them talking about their livestock, seems one had followed him around a bit while away fighting and he returned to us with the notion the animals were good luck for him…`_

He knew a letter had made its way to one of his safe drops just before his departure for Sinai and hoped that he would have time to go and retrieve it upon his return, the thought of hearing from his friends (and possibly learning more about his just-a-friend-and-nothing-more friend Johnathan) kept him in good spirits on the long trek to the monastery.

He pondered one of the new titbits of information about the man as he rode on towards Sinai.

“If Johnathan Carnahan likes goats perhaps I should gift him with a kid?” 

Ardeth turned to frown at Ammon, who was part of his small travel group, as his cousin loudly exclaimed `NO!` while slapping his own face with his palm.

Behind Ardeth, riding on his otherside, Sharifa snickered to herself before teasingly calling out to Ammon “You know the Americans call their young children `kids`, maybe we should prepare a tent for Ardeth’s new family?”

Glad of the fact no one could see the embarrassment colouring his face red, Ardeth waited for Ammon’s yelling and his companions’ laughter to ease down before calling back to the group.

“Johnathan Carnahan is NOT American”

The Medjai leader laughed as Ammon cursed and shouted his intentions to disown Ardeth.

  
  
  
  


Days later, at St, Catherine’s Monastery.

Mukarramma, leader of another Medjai tribe at Sinai and one of the eldest leaders in attendance, scrubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. It was unknown if this was through exhaustion or frustration, either way most of the Medjai gathered around the large wooden table felt the same.

“Yes, yes. We understand the strength of the monastery’s bond with our sibling Bedouin tribes, and St. Catherine's have been friend to the Medjai as well for many years, but this was not needed! There is no problem that I can see, certainly not one that meant you felt calling _the entire Medjai_ to journey to you”

She stared down the table at the small group of monastic residents in attendance at the meeting.

They had not been pleased when only three of the twelve tribes had arrived, the group of scholars visiting St. Catherine’s were angered by the small turn out.

“ _See here madam_ , we feel this is of urgent priority! We are doing you a rather important service and…”

Mukarramma raised her hand to silence the blustering man. “And as we have _tried_ to explain Doctor Smith, this is not a threat to the Medjai because we have already DEALT with such a threat”

The Doctor jabbed a pale finger at an extremely old looking scroll, causing the academic researchers around him to wince and one of his cohorts to carefully move the unique and priceless relic out of arm's reach.

“This manuscript right here foretells that all of you lot will be wiped out should this prophecy come to pass, I know what I’m talking about! I am the academic here and the authority on the subject!”

Another Medjai leader piped up with _`An authority on the subject of a text that was only discovered three months ago?`_ and was summarily ignored by Doctor Smith.

What the small team of academic researchers had found was a scroll that had had its original text washed off so the paper could be used again, it wasn’t surprising that they found such a document - they were there to study such papers, known as palimpsests, after all. It was the original text that alarmed them, and after consulting with the monastery and some locals the researchers had been told of the Medjai and reached out to them via a group of Bedouin people.

What information the researchers had been able to glean from the scroll was part of the story of Imhotep, his curse and his potential to return to the living world. There was also something of a prophecy about some souls returning to Egypt and calling forth the cursed priest, which may have been the catalyst for the Medjai to be summoned. 

What these visitors to St. Catherine’s had been told was there was a group of nomads who travelled the deserts around cursed sites - that they had based their whole way of life on living close to potential evil and watching for it. The researchers -or just Doctor Smith to be exact - were more concerned about `correcting` their way of life to a more Western ideal than preventing an ancient evil from returning. 

Several of the Medjai in attendance had complained that this doctor appeared to be more interested in a fantasy of `educating undeveloped peoples` than in stopping death and destruction. 

  
  


On the second day Ardeth and his group had been brought forward to explain some of what had recently happened at Hamunaptra. They didn’t want to share too many details with strangers, so refrained from talking about how Imhotep had, in fact, risen from his cursed eternal torment but divulged that there’d been some visitors to the site who’d maybe spoken aloud a spell. And perhaps this spell had caused some plagues. Maybe one or two fights had broken out. But it had been handled and everything was fine, everyone involved was safe (except for the ones who were dead… but let’s not mention that) and those responsible were no longer anywhere near dead/undead cursed priests hell bent on vengeance (they hoped, what was the likelihood of O'Connell and the Carnahans raising a mummy again?)

And if Ardeth had extolled the virtues of a particular Carnahan then so what? He also praised Evelyn and Rick! Although descriptions of deep blue eyes that held many secrets and a jovial, self deprecating manner of speaking that promised there was much more to know about the speaker were perhaps not exactly necessary to the telling of the story. Ardeth reasoned that he was merely giving a human element to his retelling, and thus making it all the more believable.

He was not asked to repeat the story.

  
  


It was now the evening of day four at the monastery. Talks with the doctor and his research team had devolved into the Medjai breaking off into little groups and taking the opportunity to catch up with leaders and warriors they didn’t see very often, while Doctor Smith went up to the leaders one by one to plead his case individually.

Ardeth had spoken with a few other members of the Medjai, taking wisdom from the more experienced among them and exchanging pleasantries with old friends who had married out into other tribes. During their stay they’d been allowed to wander the monastery but asked not to leave its walls, many of them were not used to spending so long inside buildings and unable to see the horizon expanding around them. Ardeth, although never intending to abandon the nomadic life, had acclimatised himself to towns and cities long ago, knowing that certain modernisations and integration with society could help the Medjai in the long run. He had spent some of his free time observing the running of St. Catherine’s, inspecting the rare and ancient mosaics and religious icons housed there. He even took some time to speak to some of the academics who WEREN’T the loudly outspoken Doctor Smith, they seemed pleased to have someone to chat about their work to and he was glad of the opportunity to learn more about the study of ancient texts.

In the quiet moments he contemplated how similar Johnathan Carnahan’s line of work was to these researchers. He knew Evelyn was the more scholarly focused of the two siblings, but Johnathan had proved his own expertise in Egyptology during their adventure (and prior to their meeting, from Ardeth’s own observations of people attempting to reach Hamunapta) 

On the ill-fated boat on the Nile, Ardeth had ensured he knew the whereabouts of each of his targets and had caught a glimpse of Johnathan in his room. He had been studying some small objects of possible ancient Egyptian origin, as well as a few scraps of decaying paper that he’d procured from who knows where, and sketching them out into a small notebook. 

Ardeth frowned as those brief memories triggered something in his mind, but he simply couldn’t grasp what it was. Like an unreachable itch that seemingly moved and reappeared in a different spot when he tried to scratch it. 

It was best not to try and force the thought into realisation, it would occur naturally while he was not thinking about it. Like when you cannot remember the final ingredient in a recipe that you have never had to write down, as soon as you start doing something other than trying to remember it you'll suddenly find yourself exclaiming “Ah! It was dried dates! How could I have possibly forgotten that?” 

Ardeth continued to look at the art on display, as well as some of the scrolls and papers. He caught his eye on an unusual set of papers, they were nearly identical and placed side by side but Ardeth observed small changes in the pages. When he studied the texts a little closer he could see that one was on immaculate paper and the other had the faintest hints of old writing in the spaces around the visible text. It was a palimpsest, reused paper, like the scroll that had brought them all to Sinai.

Perhaps the differences were mistakes, or deliberate edits to the original text, he was not familiar with the language they were written in so couldn’t say for sure.

He was alone, but Ardeth still spoke aloud “Perhaps Johnathan Carnahan has studied more than one ancient language”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew, the thought that had been so unattainable before suddenly leapt to the forefront of his mind. 

He had solved a mystery that he hadn’t known needed solving, all thanks to being too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: I just realised I've been spelling it Johnathan and not Jonathan and I can only apologies - I'll try and edit for corrections when the next chapter is uploaded.
> 
> I’ve not shared any fanfiction since 2016 and even that’s unfinished. This fic isn’t to be taken seriously, I just picked Ardeth explaining that he is simply unable to live his life because he’s too busy thinking about Johnathan Carnahan and I thought that was funny.  
> Inspired by this post: https://littlemissfi.tumblr.com/post/628982163563560960/papagenothefool-i-think-you-need-to-remove-fool  
> I also thought it would be amusing to write Johnathan Carnahan as much as possible, please don’t ask me why it’s simply one of my many regrets.

That evening Ardeth spoke of his realisation to a select few Medjai, proof was needed but they were unsure how it could be obtained. Doctor Smith and his team had kept their scroll under lock and key any time it was not brought out as a prop for the doctor to use in his campaigning to get the Medjai to stop Medjai-ing, lest they all suffer horrifically at the hand of evil.

After their clandestine meeting ended, Ammon asked him how he had come to this realisation, Ardeth decided to spare his cousin and friend the truth.

  
  


The next morning everyone was found, once more, gathered around the large wooden table. They had all arrived before Doctor Smith, who strolled into the room a good twenty minutes after the meeting was supposed to start.

The doctor either didn’t notice or didn’t care that the room’s occupants were all silent, each pair of eyes tracking his movements like a skilled hunter would track its next meal. His team sat timidly in their seats, hardly daring to draw breath. They felt anticipation, but for what they didn’t know.

Doctor Smith started in on this morning’s lecture on how he was right and they were wrong.

“I hope everyone appreciates how much I’m trying to do for you and took last night to contemplate my suggestions to disband the Medjai so that…”

_“That scroll is a fake”_

Smith’s head whipped up and he sought out the one who had interrupted him.

“Hmph, Algarth wasn’t it? Damned rude of you to interrupt me boy, and what nonsense - a fake! The only fake around here is you with that childish tale of yours from the other day”

The face of each Medjai at the meeting was solemn, their eyes never leaving Doctor Smith. Ardeth gave an infuriatingly polite smile as he gestured to the scroll, which was now neatly laid out on a cloth on the table.

“Perhaps not a fake, but a forgery in part. The scroll is genuine, but you added this so-called prophecy. It doesn’t make sense for a record of events to have a prophecy included on the end of it, and who was the prophet and why have the Medjai never heard of them? The account in the original writing seems to have come from one of our own, this much I believe, and we know that this ancient library holds texts about our past so this is not unreasonable. But this prophecy of yours is close to events that have already transpired, and you discover it a handful of months after they happen. This is much harder for us to believe”

Doctor Smith’s face had gone an alarming shade of red while Ardeth spoke calmly, even though on the inside he was not as confident as his demeanor. They really had no proof, just suspicions and Ardeth’s recollection of Johnathan sketching what had looked like, but probably weren’t, genuine antiquities before carefully copying their images onto parchment that already contained lines of pictographic writing. This had ignited the idea in Ardeth’s mind. Smith had taken a real scroll with information about Imhotep and forged a false warning onto the end of it, making it harder to spot his trickery. The man must have somehow known about Imhotep (briefly) returning and was attempting to use the danger the Medjai had recently faced, and their possible fears and uncertainties, to his own advantage.

As the doctor was winding up into a full fledged tantrum about Ardeth’s accusations one of the researchers (who had kindly spoken with Ardeth about their work just the other day) stood up abruptly, causing their chair to go crashing to the ground. 

Her eyes held tears, which spilled over and ran down her young face as she exclaimed “It’s true! This is a trick, a trap! I can’t let this happen, Doctor Smith told us you were practically savages who attacked any good person looking to discover ancient sites, that he needed to get you out of the way so he could go on to make one of the greatest discoveries of the century but… but you’ve all been kind, and thoughtful! We’ve done nothing but lie to you and I won’t stand for it any longer!”

Smith spun around and back handed the young woman across the face, screaming _`You idiot girl!`_. The blow was hard enough to send her flying backwards to the ground. Those closest to the enraged man jumped up and grabbed onto his arms, stopping him from inflicting any further violence or from fleeing the room. Ardeth made his way over to the researcher on the ground and helped her to her feet.

It wasn’t hard to get the full story from the rest of the Smith’s academics once the screaming man had been dragged from the room by several of the Medjai.

As it turned out, in his youth Smith had been part of an expedition whose aim was to uncover the City of the Dead and plunder it for the benefit of high paying collectors and museums. The Medjai had discouraged these attempts and Smith had remained bitter about missing out on claiming his own portion of the fame and money. He had kept tabs on any further groups intending on uncovering Imhotep’s burial site, as well as trying to source as much information on the Medjai that he could. This was how he had learned of a small number of scrolls about the origins of their duty, which were housed at St. Catherine’s monastery, and used his academic standing (and possibly a few bribes…. Definitely a few bribes) to mount a research trip to Sinai. It happened to be pure coincidence that the events at Hamunaptra had occurred, which Smith had heard partial bits of information about through his unscrupulous network. He took advantage, and put in action a plan that he thought would crumble the Medjai - or at least distract them long enough to get some men out to the desert and claim any sites of interest in his name.

It was… certainly... _a plan_. 

Not a very good plan, but one that had unfortunately been successful in part. 

The Medjai hadn’t fled their posts in the wake of disaster, and remained unwilling to abandon their sworn duties. Smith had succeeded in getting a number of them to Sinai, but the Medjai had been doing this for generation upon generation, they had faced foes who wished to defeat them before. Granted, this was one of the more inane and frustrating plots against them, but no one had been hurt. Ok, the woman Smith slapped was slightly hurt, but her cheek would sting for a day or two and then she would be fine - in the grand scheme of things this was relatively minor.

After getting further details about Smith’s plot to gain control of important ancient sites the attending Medjai dismissed the researchers into the hands of the monastery’s residents, most likely they would be sent back to their universities and institutes with their tails between their legs and a ban from the greek Orthodox Church from ever studying their sacred grounds and relics again.

Smith had been placed in a secure room with several people from both the monastery and the Medjai keeping a close eye on him. The church would no doubt want to administer harsher punishment for his deception and the tampering of the scroll, but the Medjai were already there and aware of his schemes so why not decide his fate themselves? After all, what was the desecration of one scroll compared to an attempt to destroy an entire group of people in order to rob sacred places?

They left the building they’d met in and made their way to the one the Medjai had been given as temporary residence during their stay. Hurma Yahya Mahamed greeted them as they approached, the events of the confrontation had happened so quickly that a message had yet to be sent to the tribes waiting for them outside but they all knew of what the leaders had intended to accuse Smith of doing.

“Such solemn faces, were our fears correct?”

Mukarramma nodded to the other woman “Yes, he posed a threat to our people. Now we must decide what to do with him and the knowledge that some untrustworthy people may be close to us. He knew of recent events with the dead priest and more about us than we are comfortable with”

“Go and make your decision, I’ll have one of my boys bring you coffee and some food”

Ardeth rubbed at his brow as the other Medjai leaders around him began discussing amongst themselves about what actions needed to be taken first. It was not a pleasant thought, but he needed to consider the possibility that one of the Carnahans or O’Connell had unwittingly passed information on to Doctor Smith. Out of all the little scenarios he’d played in his head, the one he’d never imagined was if Johnathan Carnahan had been involved in a betrayal.

The decisions immediately put into action were sending messengers back to each of the Medjai groups left behind, as well as some additional people to go into the nearest city to the monastery in order to reach out to any contacts who were immediately deemed suspicious or high risk. They needed to hunt down anyone who’d intended on giving information about them out to those who would wish harm on the Medjai, they also needed to find possible unintentional leaks - someone may have never known Doctor Smith but spoke out in company they thought they could trust. There were many ways the Medjai could become vulnerable when dealing with those outside of their own, but it would be impossible to thrive in the quickly changing world if they didn’t.

Trade deals needed to be made for resources they couldn’t produce themselves, informants in urban areas were invaluable for the collecting and sharing of news and information, foreing friends keeping them abreast of other countries’ plans to send expeditions to the deserts of Egypt, workers at museums and in antique shops letting them know when items of interest (or very good forgeries ) came into their possession - as well as helping to keep curious parties off of the trail to the sites the Medjai protect. Not that that last one had worked all too well for them recently.

And, on a personal level, the members of their tribes needed to forge friendships and… find love. 

It was always sad when a young woman or man left in pursuit of building a family with an outsider, but also cause for celebration when someone new marries into the Medjai. They were not so closed off that elders would insist on matches being made only within their own members, though many preferred to find their partners amongst their ranks anyway. Hurma Yahya Mahamed herself was married to the leader of one of the smaller tribes, her husband had gone to Giza while journeying in his youth, and when he’d returned to the Medjai she had gone with him. They’d met when he was in need of a translator, and she so happened to speak several languages. Now she was mother and grandmother, as well as her husband’s partner in the day to day running of their tribe.

Masuda, from Ardeth’s own community, was in a relationship with a man in Cypress - they didn’t see each other very often but Masuda and his love exchanged letters as frequently as they could. The time and distance had not extinguished the intensity of their feelings over the years, but Ardeth thought it wouldn’t be long until Masuda was one of the Medjai who left the desert for good. He would still be an asset to them wherever he settled down, but many would shed a tear if he left.

And Ardeth? He had courted, and been courted, and several years ago members of his family had anticipated a marriage between himself Sharifa but he had not long become leader of his tribe, and Sharifa had wanted to travel between the Medjai to learn about becoming a fierce fighter. They had loved each other but weren’t in love with each other. At least not enough for one of them to make a compromise on how they’d live their lives.

Sharifa was an incredible warrior and sharp tactical mind, she also liked to sing lullabies to her favourite daggers. She could be…. very intense, Ardeth valued her as both a friend and a member of his command but was certain a relationship between them would’ve been tempestuous. They certainly butted heads enough just working together as it was. Now Ardeth was left with the decision of if he would tell Ammon that Sharifa had set her eyes on him as a romantic interest.

(He’d probably let his cousin wonder why he was the target for Sharifa’s jokes and teasing for a little while longer. Consider it payback for the complaints about Ardeth’s preoccupation with Johnathan Carnahan)  
  


Back to the matter at hand, what to do about Doctor Smith and was Ardeth’s acquaintance with the Carnahans and O’Connell an issue?

This had become a topic of discussion with the leaders once the messengers had been sent out, especially as trouble had indeed stemmed from the siblings and the American already. Given the academic nature of Doctor Smith’s presence at the monastery there were concerns that Evelyn, and even Johnathan, could be his contemporary. 

Ardeth’s calm under pressure was tested when someone openly accused Johnathan of being directly involved with the scheme, they called him a failed adventurer fantasist and that they’d come across his name before in connection with other expeditions and digs sites. When Johnathan was called an imbecile who only knew the value of gold all eyes turned abruptly to Ardeth and breaths were held as people anticipated how he would respond. 

There was a desperate internal struggle in Ardeth’s mind, he knew Johnathan Carnahan could easily have his head turned by the idea of easy money and access to treasure. But he also knew the man wasn’t a villain, and wouldn’t actively seek to aid someone like Doctor Smith. Yes, the man could steal and cheat and bulk up the price of his finds with a little forgery and tickery but he was also smart enough not to do so with items of importance - he knew the worth of genuine rare discoveries and although he’d look to sell them he wouldn’t dare destroy their value with some cosmetic meddling.

Ardeth was certain of all these things, he wasn’t so blind as to think Johnathan Carnahan to be perfect and unblemished. There was a lot he had to learn about the Egyptologist, a lot that he wanted to learn about him, but Ardeth was adamant that Johnathan (nor Evelyn or Rick) had any involvement in this matter.

Jonathan’s accuser crossed their arms pointedly and waited for Ardeth’s reaction. What Ardeth WANTED to do was throw his eish baladi bread at them, what he did instead was something he’d held back on doing for the sake of his companions:

He loudly, and at length, extolled the virtues of Johnathan Carnahan.

And Evelyn Carnahan and Rick O’Connell as well, but that came in due course.

He didn’t hold back on lecturing about Johnathan’s habit of treasure seeking and somewhat underhanded dealings, but he countered every negative with a glowing acknowledgment of all the good he saw in the man. The only things he may have kept from the gathered Medjai were his opinions on the sound of Johnathan’s voice, how soft his brunette hair looks, the gentle curves of his face and how they work to make the blue of his eyes even more striking, that his hands weren’t small or delicate but still the fingers long and elegant - that Ardeth had often wondered how it would feel to hold them... and NOT be running for their lives.

Ardeth spoke at length, he would have been able to serve his point in much shorter time and with fewer words but he was somewhat enjoying the opportunity to unload some of the things he’d had playing on his mind and it was a good exercise in diplomacy for him as well. The person who he was defending Johnathan to couldn’t claim Ardeth was acting badly or not answering the accusations, in fact they were looking somewhat uncomfortable at the long speech and any rebuttal from them at this moment would count as THEM being rude for interrupting. It was fascinating for the others to watch, some wouldn’t have ever heard Ardeth speak so much and for so long. He had a reputation as a man to favour action and only speak succinctly.

Once he was done there was a moment of quiet, only broken when a young man stuck his head into the room they were using for their conference - he was there to ask if a decision had made about Doctor Smith.

“No,” spoke someone a few seats to his left “Ardeth Bay has been too busy talking about Johnathan Carnahan”

Any tension in the room was instantly relieved by the peals laughter that followed. It had been a long day for everyone.


End file.
